


Now Museum; Now You Don't

by Cena316AA



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Daddy Tony Stark, Fluff, Gen, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, One Shot, Other, Steve Rogers worrying about everybody, Toddler Peter Parker, Tony Stark being an idiot, best trio ever, daddy Steve Rogers, museum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cena316AA/pseuds/Cena316AA
Summary: It's their first family outing! Tony and Steve decide to take Peter to a museum, but Steve is worried about the possibility of his son getting lost in such a busy place. However, it's not Peter he should have worried about.





	Now Museum; Now You Don't

**Author's Note:**

> I did a little SuperFamily thing since I'm so obsessed with them, and the Spidey movie is so close! 
> 
> I came up with this idea when I had to prepare for a field trip and I was more worried about me getting lost than of losing the kindergartners I was going to be watching. And, with the way my mind works, I related my experience to a SuperFamily/Stony thing (because I am obsessed with them). 
> 
> Anywho, hope you enjoy my little fic. I had fun writing it

After two more thuds of his hammer, he stood back to admire his handiwork. There was still more to do -- and plenty of room for improvement -- nevertheless he was satisfied. His latest project was coming along just fine.

“Done,” he said substituting the beads of sweat on his forehead for the grease on the back of his palm causing a dark streak right above his right eyebrow. He took a few steps back to his workbench and placed the hammer on it with a loud, metallic _CLANK_ before glancing at his watch. “Shoot! I’m late!”

And, as if on cue, he heard his name being called.

“TONY!”

He winced as if the tone with which his name was being uttered brought physical discomfort. “Yes?” he called back.

“You better not still be in your lab. I told you over an hour ago to start getting ready.”

“Of course not,” he said as he took the stairs that lead out of his lab two at a time. “I was just--just looking for something to wear. You know how messy my closet is.” He made it to the last step and rushed out the door. “It took a while.”

He slammed the silver door behind him, quietly, and began to tiptoe down the hall. He had taken only two steps when he heard “Dada?”

He jumped at the sound of the small voice. 

“Shh, Peter!” he said pressing his finger against his lips. “Papa doesn’t have to know I was down in the lab, okay? In fact, I was just about to get into the shower.”

The three-year old stared at him blankly. 

_Perhaps he doesn’t understand_ , Tony thought. He got down on one knee before the boy. Even like this, Tony was still taller than the tiny toddler. “Don’t tell Papa,” he said carefully picking out his words, “I was in the lab. It’s uh--it’ll be our little secret,” he said with a wink. “Okay?”

“‘Kay, Dada. I won’t tell Papa.”

Tony offered his son a large smile. “Good boy.” He ruffled the boy’s chestnut brown hair. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Papa find out himself.” Peter continued as soon as Tony’s affectionate play stopped. He raised a small finger and pointed behind Tony. 

Tony’s throat went dry, but he managed a “What?” before he fully understood his son’s words.

Sweat appeared on the back of his neck. He could feel his body weighted down. His fists clenched, and he had difficulty getting his legs to work. But, he managed to stand up straight and turn to face the man behind him. He forced a smile. “Hey, sweetheart. You look great. Fantastic even.”

“Tony,” Steve said calmly. “Why are you in front of your lab?”

“Technically, I’m not in front of it. I’m more of two inches to the right of it.”

“Tony.”

“Steve.”

“Tony.”

“Steve.”

“Get. In. The. _SHOWER_!”

“Aye aye, Captain.” He took large strides down the hall and began undressing before he disappeared behind the bathroom door.

When the door shut, Steve let out a loud sigh. 

“Papa.”

“Yes, Peter.”

“I shower ahready.”

Steve looked down at his proud son and took him gently in his powerful arms. “Yes, you did. You’re a much better man than your father already.” The small boy began to giggle as Steve poked his sides. “Now, let’s go get you changed.”

 

“How do I look?” Tony said performing a full 360 for the man before him. He was wearing black dress pants, a white dress shirt opened at the collar but decorated with a bright red tie, and pulled together with a dark gray vest. His white socks were still visible.

“You would’ve looked better an hour ago,” Steve replied barely glancing at him. He had managed to get one red shoe on Peter, but this one was giving him quite the struggle.

“Oh, come on, babe. How many times do I have to say ‘I’m sorry?’ I got caught up in the project. It’s almost done.” Tony went up to them and took the shoe from Steve’s hand. “Just a few more tweaks here and there . . .” He slid the shoe onto Peter’s socked foot easily. “ . . . and _voila_.” 

Steve looked down at the tan carpet. He smiled. “You look great,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Tony teased reaching for his own shoes. 

“I said,” he raised his gaze to Tony, and his ocean-blue eyes met his honey-like ones, “you look great. As always.” 

“I sure do,” Tony replied with a smirk as one socked foot disappeared in the black, suede shoes. 

Steve let out a chuckle and lowered his gaze again. 

Tony continued his teasing, “You look great in blue, by the way.”

Steve was wearing a plaid blue, button down shirt tucked into black jeans accentuated with a belt as red as his cheeks were after Tony’s compliment. 

“Can we go?”

The two men turned to the child jumping on the bed. 

Tony took a step forward and raised his arms, about to grab the bouncing boy, “Of cour--”

“Wait!” 

Before Tony could process what had happened, Steve already had Peter in his arms and was practically running through the hall. He followed them.

“We have to make sure Peter won’t get lost. It’s Saturday, and the museum is bound to be filled with people.” They walked into the living room where a few items were placed on the coffee table. “Peter’s not used to so many people crowded in one place,” Steve spoke as he placed his son on the larger couch. “It might be too much for him.”

“We live in New York, Steve. I think Peter will manage.”

“How do you know, Tony? What if he gets anxious by all the people? Or maybe something will frighten him? He’s still too young.” Steve looked down at his joyous son and placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Maybe we shouldn’t go.” 

“You were the one that said we don’t have many family get togethers. How are we going to make this a _weekend_ thing when you won’t let Peter out on the _weekend_?”

“I know. It’s just--Maybe it’s too soon.”

“Well, we could stay in. Do something--”

“No! Peter is three. We should start showing him what the world has to offer.”

Tony threw his head back and clapped his hands against his sides. 

“Then again, he’s only three. He still has his whole life ahead of him.” Steve hugged Peter close to his chest.

“Steve.”

“But,” he pushed Peter arm’s length away, still holding onto his frail shoulders, “we should expose him as soon as possible. What if he becomes a shut-in?” 

“Steve.”

“Is that psychological? What if he’s already a shut-in?” He pulled Peter back to his chest. “Would it be considered child abuse if we force him into society?”

“Steve!”

The abrupt tone startled Steve causing him to let go of Peter who ended up losing his balance and landed seated on the couch. 

Tony looked at his worried husband straight in the eye. “We’re just going . . . to a . . . museum. Peter will be fine. We have bigger things to worry about. Like,” he pointed to his watch, “the museum closing.” 

“Yes, but, we have to take these things into consideration. What if Peter--”

“Exactly. What if Peter? Let’s ask him. Peter, would you like to go to the museum?”

“Yeah!”

“There you go.”

Silence hung over them for a few seconds. Tony was wondering if Steve would even reply, but, then he said,

“I need to take a few precautions first.”

“Go ahead,” Tony said with a smile.

“Yay!” Peter had stood up once again and was bouncing on the couch. 

“No no, Petey.” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder to calm him down. “Not on the couch. You do that on the ground.” 

“‘Kay.” Peter jumped down and began bouncing in place beside the coffee table. 

Chuckling, Steve turned his attention to the items on the table. “Well, I had prepared some things already,” he said picking one of the items up.

“Is that a leash?” Tony reached for the soft, tan material. 

“It’s a harness,” Steve corrected, “with a little dog at the end. It’s also a backpack.”

Tony examined the plush-like creature Steve was holding. It was indeed a dog (and a backpack), but it was also a leash. “We are not putting my son on a leash.”

“Peter likes it.”

“He does not.”

Steve offered the plush animal to Peter who immediately brought it into a hug and began petting it. “Puppy!” he shouted over and over again.

Defeated, Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll tie him up.”

Giving him a side glance, Steve turned to the other items on the table. “I also have this.”

Tony looked at the contraption before him. “A watch? Peter doesn’t know how to tell time, yet. How is this supposed to help him?”

“It’s a gps tracking device. See,” Steve brought out his phone, “this app shows me where the tracker,” he pointed at the watch-like device, “is. Its distance is limited, however, but it’ll get the job done.”

Tony didn’t say anything, so Steve continued. “This right here is a small wallet. It has important information such as our pictures, names, and phone numbers. I also included some emergency contacts in case something were to happen to us. I have Nat’s, Banner’s, Clint’s--”

“That’s--That’s impressive, honey, it is, but . . .” Tony hesitated, “do we even need all this stuff. It’s just a trip to the museum.”

“Anything can happen in one second, Tony. I just want to be prepared.”

Defeated, Tony threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. You win. Anything else you want to equip Peter with? Internal chip? Body guard? Anti-theft security? A car alarm?”

“Very funny, Tony. But, just in case . . .” Steve took out his cellphone and aimed it at Peter. “Say cheese.”

Peter grinned. His milky teeth showing.

The flash went off causing Tony to blink a couple of times in order to gain control of his eyesight. “And that was for . . .?”

“In case Peter does get lost, I’ll have a recent picture of him with the clothes he’s currently wearing.”

Tony looked his son up and down. “He’s wearing blue jeans with a red tee and red shoes. It is honestly not that hard to describe. Or spot.”

Steve glared at him.

He brought his hands up as if surrendering. “Fine. If it makes you feel better,” he, too, brought out his phone, “I’ll do the same thing.” After snapping a picture of a grinning Peter, Tony placed his phone back in his pocket. “Shall we go now?”

“Yes. And, thank you.”

Tony planted a small kiss on Steve’s soft, pink lips. “Anything for you.”

“Then maybe next time you could put your work on pause and actually get ready on time.”

“Don’t push it.” Tony gave Steve’s cheek a soft pat and headed out the door. Keys in hand, he waited for the other two to make their way outside. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

People bustled about. Some stood in front of sculptures while others jostled to the next exhibition. Chatters and conversations filled the large building. The older ones examined certain aspects of a piece while the younger ones entertained themselves by pointing at something slightly humorous and laughing amongst themselves.

Steve held on to the soft harness. 

“It’s a leash,” Tony whispered under his breath.

“What?” Steve said without looking away from the large figure.

“Nothing.”

“That dinosaur is biiiiig,” Peter said as he stared wide-eyed at the assembly of bones before him.

“Yes, it is,” Steve responded. “It’s a,” he looked at the name of the attraction, “um, an Ehlay--eylah--”

“Elaltitan lilloi,” Tony chimed in. “Part of the sauropod clade. It weighed nearly 50 tons.”

Steve turned to him, amazed. “How do you--”

“I watched the new Jurassic World movie. A friend of mine was in it.” 

“Why haven’t I met him?”

“He’s not from around here.” Tony walked away before Steve could ask anything else. “Look at this, Peter.”

Steve felt a tug on the rope in his fist and followed after the eager boy. 

The museum was large and divided into five zones. There was the dinosaur exhibit, which the trio started in. They then headed to the historical section of the museum followed by the technology and science exhibits, and finished it off with the interactive part of the museum. Here, Peter was allowed to touch and play with things. He was currently in the sandbox excavating for “dinosaur bones,” and Steve was keeping a close eye on him through the video function of his cellphone. 

“Wave hello to the camera, sweetheart.” Steve watched as his little hand gave a halfhearted wave and went back to digging. 

“You know, Tony, you were right. It was a good idea to come here after all. And, he didn’t get lost. My worries got the best of me. I promise I won’t let it happen--” he turned to where Tony should have been, “again.” He spoke this last word in a much quieter tone. “Tony?” He turned to his right. Then left again. Then behind him. Each time uttering his partner’s name. “Tony?” He turned to his son. “Peter, where did Dada go?”

“I no know.”

“I’ll text him.” Steve’s fingers began to urgently tap at the screen; however, his heart sank when he sent the message. His left pocket buzzed. 

“No. No no no no no.” Steve reached in and took out Tony’s phone. “He gave it to me back at the history exhibit when he went to use the restroom. I never gave it back. Tony . . .” Had he come back from the restroom? Yes, he had. Steve remembered Tony complaining about the hand dryers. 

Steve tried to recall where they may have been separated, but he had been too focused on not losing Peter that he hadn’t even noticed his surroundings. He looked around. The museum would be closing in two hours, but it was still filled with spectators. He rubbed his temples in frustration and let out a low moan. “Damn it, Tony,” he said under his breath. “Peter, let’s go.”

“I wanna stay, Papa.”

“No, we have to go look for your dad.”

“Where is Dada?”

“I don’t know, Peter.”

“He got lost?”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, yes he did.”

Peter, noticing the expression on his dad’s face said nothing more. 

Steve picked up Peter in his arms. It’s bad enough he lost one of his boys. He didn’t want to have to lose the other as well. “Let’s go look for Dada, Peter.” 

They traversed the interactive exhibit searching in each spectacle, Peter hoping that he’d get the opportunity to play in them once they found Dada. He didn’t dare utter these thoughts aloud, though. Papa did not look happy.

Teeth grazing, Steve looked past every person that came his way. Each passing second made him angrier . . . but also more worried. What if something had happened? Did Tony get caught up in something? He was such a loudmouth it wouldn’t have surprised Steve if he had gotten into an altercation with one of the tourists. Steve looked for Tony, but he also looked for any men in uniform. A cop. A firefighter. A . . . paramedic. He listened for the sound of yelling or a siren. Anything that might give him a sign of Tony. 

However, there was nothing. And, this was both a source of relief and frustration for Steve.

They made their way through the history part of the museum. They started with an exhibit on modern civilization and traveled back to prehistoric times where cavemen dwelled. Somewhere in the 19th century, the crowd began to dwindle, now as they stood by the restroom Tony had been at not three hours ago, a voice announcing the museum would be closing in thirty minutes crackled over the loudspeaker.

“He’s not here,” Steve muttered. They only had thirty minutes left and three more sections to search. The only good thing to come of it was that the building wasn’t as crowded so spotting his husband wouldn’t be a challenge. Or, at least he hoped. 

He looked down at his squirming child. 

“Is Dada not coming back?” Peter looked up at him with wide, shining eyes.

Steve smoothed his soft hair, soothing him. “Of course he is, sweetie. He just took a different path than us. He’s probably waiting for us outside.” 

They entered the science section. Here, Steve’s eyes easily scanned the area. Most of the attendees had already disparaged, but, from the ones that remained, none of them resembled Tony.

 _Maybe I should ask for help. There’s a security guard over there. Perhaps they’d let me use the intercom_. He kept his thoughts to himself so as not to worry his son who already felt heavy in his arms. _He’s agitated_.

Peter was already a sensitive child and seemed to be in touch with other people’s emotion. Even with Steve masking his worries, Peter remained uneasy.

“Um, excuse me.” Steve walked up to the yellow vest-wearing security guard. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders and glistened in the fluorescent lights projecting from the gravity presentation. She looked at him with a tired look and said nothing. “Um, I seem to have lost my--”

“Kid? Yeah. It’s hard enough with one, but two? I’m not surprised. What was your kid wearing? Hair? Name? Age?” She had taken a notepad and her fingers firmly grasped a pen on the blank page ready to write.

“Uh, no, um. I only have the one . . . kid.”

Immediately, she put her notepad and pen back in her back pocket. “For misplaced items you’ll have to contact our lost-and-found services. We are not responsible for anything lost or stolen.”

“No no no.” Steve shook his head rapidly. “That’s not it. I can’t find my, uhh, husband.”

“Oh.” In her four years of working here, she had never had to look for a grown man before, but she knew these things happened and was prepared accordingly. “Does he have any disabilities or ailments? Perhaps he seeked shelter in a more quiet area. Sensory excitement and all that.”

“Uh, no no, he’s not--at least I don’t think he is--he’s not clinically diagnosed with any impairments. He just got . . . lost.” Steve could feel a bit of heat on the back of his neck and rubbed at it with his free hand. “He was with me one moment and then . . . not. And, I have his cellphone! So . . . I can’t . . . call him. He’s, um, about this tall. Dark hair. Beard that goes like this. Two eyes. I mean, obviously, but his are brown. But, not like brown-brown. They’re more like a soft brown swirled with a honey-like color and--”

“Hold on just a moment, sir. Is he one of those techie nerds? Good with tools?”

“Yes! That’s him.”

“I see.” She looked Steve up and down. “Follow me,” She motioned to Steve before turning to another guard a few feet away. “Stan! Cover for me, will ya?”

An older looking gentleman turned to them. He, too, was wearing a yellow vest, but his was decorated with a silver badge. “Will do!” he called back. 

Steve didn’t want to judge, but he doubted the old man would be able to keep up if something were to happen. How was he even a security guard in such a public place as this? Nevertheless, with Peter in tow, he followed the long-haired woman away from the exhibits, down a gray corridor, and to a green door. 

“Right in there,” the security guard said with a nod of her head. 

“Um, thank you,” he said before making his way past her and through the door. It closed behind him with a clunking sound that he paid no mind to for he was distracted by the scene which greeted him.

The image before him was not what he had expected, but he was not surprised. 

“This is a breach of my civil rights!” Tony screamed at a rather short, plump, bald man wearing a black suit. “You have no right to detain me. I have done nothing illegal.”

“You took apart one of our displays!” the little, bald man shouted back adjusting his black-rimmed glasses on his sweaty face.

“I WAS FIXING IT!”

“That’s ILLEGAL!”

“Not if I’m FIXING IT!”

“Papa, Dada’s right there,” Peter said pointing with one small finger at Tony.

“Yes, Peter. There’s Dada,” Steve said with a sigh. “Tony!”

The new voice captured his attention, and he immediately turned to see his husband with their little boy in his arms. “Steve!” He walked over to them. “Hey there, Peter,” he said as he nuzzled his son’s hair causing him to erupt with giggles. He turned to Steve. “Sorry. I-I got caught up in something with Danny DeVito over here.” 

The bald man stepped forward. “For the last time! I am the manager of this here establishment, and this man,” he pointed at Tony, “destroyed one of our exhibits!”

“I FIXED it. Why is that so hard to understand?”

Steve glared at Tony. “What did you do?”

“I--I,” he let out a sharp sigh. “I--”

“This man,” the manager interrupted, “was caught taking apart one of the Nikola Tesla prototypes we have on display in the technology branch of my museum. My security tried to remove him three times, but he wouldn’t budge. By the time I arrived at the scene, he had already pieced the prototype together again; however, he had made some modifications to it. He is considerably lucky I didn’t call the police.”

“Modifications?” Steve turned his attention back to Tony.

“It had some unnecessary attachments. I just removed them. It’s a lot lighter now. A lot portable, too.”

“It’s not supposed to be portable!” The bald man’s shiny head reminded Peter of those steamed tomatoes he would refuse to eat. “It’s a display. It remains there in its proper spot.”

“Well, that seems like a waste of good technology.” 

At Tony’s remark, the manager let out a blood-curdling yell. Peter covered his ears with his small hands, but the shriek still caused his skin to crawl. 

Steve forcefully grasped Tony’s wrist and pulled him next to him. “We are so sorry--”

“I’m not,” Tony said.

“--for everything. Thank you for not reporting my husband. We really appreciate it. Truly!”

With this, the manager seemed to calm down. He pulled a white rag from his coat pocket and dabbed at his sweaty head. “Yes, well, he is still banned from this establishment.”

“Fair enough.”

“Fair?” Tony interjected. “I fixed their darn thing, and I get banned? This is inhumane. It’s--it’s bull--”

“Tony! You could be in jail right now. Just apologize.” 

He hesitated for a moment but finally relented. “Fine. I’m sorry I improved your display by tinkering with a great invention, which, by the way, didn’t function until I got my hands and tools on it. And . . . I’m sorry that you have such an oddly-shaped head.”

Peter burst into laughter at this last remark, and Steve had to bite his tongue in order not to do the same. He decided this was the best it was going to get and pushed past the door pulling Tony along with him. From behind the door, they heard the manager’s furious screams, and they proceeded down the corridor at a faster pace. 

 

Steve didn’t dare relax until they were out in the fresh air. The last of the sun’s rays had began to disappear and a cool breeze brushed past their faces. 

“Well, that was a pretty eventful experience,” Tony said. 

Steve, hand still firmly locked on his wrist, faced him. “Tony, why?”

“I’m a handyman. If something’s broken, I gotta fix it,” he replied with a smug smile.

Steve let go of him and pinched the bridge of his nose with his newly free hand. “I can’t take you anywhere,” he said softly. 

“Do you need help with Peter?” 

The tired boy reached for Tony’s outstretched arms and adjusted his small body in his new human vehicle. 

They made their way down the parking lot. Their car was easy to spot for it was the only one in the area. In the short walk from the entrance of the museum to the car, Peter had managed to fall asleep. And, as Tony placed him in the car seat, his light snores filled the silence. 

He shut Peter’s door quietly and stopped. Steve was standing by the passenger side, door still closed. 

“So, um,” Tony began. “Seems I was right. About Peter. Told you he’d be okay.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, you were right. He had fun. Even though he didn’t get to play with all the attractions, he seemed pretty satisfied.”

“Yeah,” Tony chuckled. “The little guy got worn out.” 

“Guess I didn’t have to worry about him at all.”

Tony smiled proudly.

“You, on the other hand . . .”

Tony’s smile faltered.

“You are not coming on our next weekend outing.”

“What? Why? I did nothing wrong.”

“Are you seriously still standing by that? You messed with a museum display.”

“I FIXED it!”

“Yes, you did, Tony. And, I love you for that. But, these people,” he motioned to the museum, “they don’t appreciate you as much as I do.”

“Wow. That was kinda sweet. Thank you.”

Steve gave him a small smile. “You’re still not joining us next weekend.” He opened the door and entered the car.

“Wait!” He did the same. “I thought--”

“Shh,” Steve whispered. “Peter’s asleep.”

Tony adjusted his voice. “I thought we were going to the beach next week. How can I possibly screw things up there?”

“Tony,” Steve said softly. “You’re an inventor. You’ll find a way.”

“I am oddly insulted.”

It was silent for a while as Tony started the car and drove away from the museum. Tony would glance over at Steve every once in awhile. He appeared deep in thought, so he didn’t dare disrupt him. He let him be and soon he, too, was preoccupied by his own mind. So caught up with his own thoughts he was that Steve’s voice managed to startle him.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you actually manage to get an old invention working?”

“Yeah! It was quite simple actually. All I had to do was recirculate the--”

“It actually worked?”

“Yep.”

“That’s pretty amazing.”

Tony, eyes still ahead of him, replied, “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“You’re amazing.” Steve looked over at Tony. 

Tony took his eyes off the road to quickly glance at the man seated next to him. His blue eyes sparkled back at him. Tony was not easily embarrassed, but the look Steve was giving him caused his cheeks to turn as red as Peter’s shirt. He quickly turned away. “I--It was nothing. I’m just good with . . . tech . . . stuff.”

“You’re good at other things, too.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Steve turned to the window, and he took in the scenery flashing by him. They were nearing their home. “Being a dad.”

Tony grinned.

“Except for the part where you managed to get lost in a museum while on a family outing and got banned in the process.”

Tony groaned. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope.”

Tony pulled into the driveway. “Well, I’ll make it up to you and Peter next ti--”

“You’re still not coming with us.” Steve got out of the car as soon as Tony turned the key. He walked over to Peter’s door and gently lifted him up out of the seat, careful not to wake him. 

“What do I have to do to prove I won’t mess this one up?” Tony said as they walked into the living room. 

Steve headed straight into Peter’s room without saying a word. He placed Peter on the toddler-sized bed and wrapped him up in his favorite blanket before placing his lips on his soft cheek. Then, he made his way to his bedroom where Tony was waiting to continue the conversation. 

“So?”

Steve pretended not to know what he was talking about. “So what?”

“What do I have to do?”

Steve entertained the notion. Then, he got close to Tony. He began to undo the buttons on his dress shirt. “You’ll do anything?”

Tony’s breath was rapid. “Yeah . . .”

“Anything?” Steve moved closer to him as his hands undid the last button and moved further down.

Tony could feel his warm breath on his lips. “Yeah.”

Steve smiled. “Then, you have to . . .” he pulled away, “do all of the household chores for the entire week.”

It took Tony a moment for his words to sink in. His heart was still racing, and his mind had become muddled. “What? A week? But, I have projects to work on.”

“Then, I guess you just won’t come with us.”

“No. Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Steve said, eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you would.”

“Well, I guess I’m still full of surprises.” 

“Show me,” Steve said slyly. 

“Huh?”

Before Tony could react, Steve grabbed his tie and tugged him toward him, and they fell on their king-sized bed. Their lips pressed against each other, their bodies intertwined.


End file.
